


The Runaway Princess

by somekindofwildgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, F/M, Royalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-12
Updated: 2016-09-16
Packaged: 2018-08-14 15:40:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8019634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somekindofwildgirl/pseuds/somekindofwildgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They would not look for her in her betrothed's kingdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is set in the Middle Ages, in the fictional nonmagical kingdoms of Almara and Elran.

Hermione crept along the shadows. She needed to find cover or her mission would fail. A howl startled her - a scream on the tip of her tongue - but she realized it came from beyond the castle walls. There was no danger here. Yet. She was on edge, her muscles ready to leap into action at any given moment.

As she slipped behind the smokehouse, footsteps echoed throughout the courtyard. Hermione closed her eyes and released the breath she had been holding. That had been a close call. The voices were getting louder.

"You jumped like a girl."

The knight scoffed. "Did not. I was dozing off before that wolf... It's been a long night."

"Amen to that," his partner answered. Someone opened the castle door and her eyes flew open. Their torchlight fading as the two guards disappeared. When she was certain they would not return, Hermione resumed her journey.

The next part of her plan held a greater risk, but it was unavoidable. Both the castle's main and back entrance were guarded. Only those with the King's permission were granted access at night. But, the domestic staff used a gate in the courtyard that was neglected. Not many knew of its existence as servants were ignored, only seen when needed. This door was her only chance of escape and dawn was fast approaching. Soon, the attendants would begin their chores and the rest of the castle would wake up.

It was now or never.

Hermione darted across the lawn. The distance to the gate was longer than she remembered, but now was not the time to second guess herself. The morning dew made the grass slippery and she almost lost her pack twice in her clumsiness. The door was only a stone throw away.

"Intruder! Ring the bells! Gather the guards!"

She cursed and bolted for the gate. Her heart hammered in her chest, the bells tolled. Please do not let this be the end. Adrenaline coursed through her, forcing her on. Hermione crashed through the door and kept running.

The path was treacherous, its disuse apparent upon first glance. Branches reached out at her as she tore past them, tearing her clothes and leaving their marks upon her skin. Rocks and roots littered the trail. Hermione fell, got up, tripped again. Only the threat of punishment kept her tired limbs moving.

She kept this pace until she was well away from the castle. When Hermione was certain no one was following her, she slowed to a walk cradling a stitch in her side. The guards would not give up their pursuit. She had to keep moving.

The closest town was half a day's walk to the east. On horseback, the sentry would beat her there. She pulled out her map and glanced at the sun's position before continuing on her journey. Hermione turned west.

They would not look for her in her betrothed's kingdom.


	2. Chapter 2

Blisters covered every inch of her feet and her shoulders sagged under the weight of her pack. Hermione had packed too much, but she liked to prepare for every eventuality. The five books were overkill – she had them memorized before she stepped foot out of the castle – and her heart broke when she left them behind. But, it was necessary. She still had seven days until she reached the border of Elran and she could not afford any delay.

The first few days were uneventful. She had studied survival tactics and how to make camp, although, no amount of research prepared her for the physical skill. It had taken her hours of using a flint before the brush caught fire. The second night, Hermione discovered that trees do not provide adequate cover from heavy rain. The next day was spent in soaked clothes but no sickness had come from it.

This was the hardest thing she had done in her life, but her determination did not fail her. The guards would not find her.

But this was also the most exhilarating thing she had done. Never before had Hermione been alone for this long and the independence was freeing. Her confidence grew with each passing minute; her challenges were worth the price of freedom. Once she was accustomed to making camp, she started to feel like she belonged roaming the countryside. If her fighting skills were not abysmal, she could have been a knight. Although, women were not allowed to be in the King's military.

She took a sip from her waterskin and her heart sank when she realized the danger she was in. Her water was running out sooner than anticipated.

The days had been hot and the trees shielded her from the wind. Hermione found a tree trunk and sat down. She needed to make a plan. Peering into the flask, she realized that she had enough water for today and maybe tonight, if she was careful. Logically, she knew she should be worried. But every challenge so far had been overcome and there was hope that this would reach the same end.

But, this day proved to be hotter than any day she had faced since her escape. Within hours, her tunic was soaked, the wool irritating her skin. Her mouth was dry, her tongue heavy in her mouth and the urge to drink water grew with each lethargic step. Hermione carried on in this state for another hour before she broke. The trees had become hazy and she knew she would pass out if she did not drink. And if the map was to believed, she would come across a spring soon.

She convinced herself that she would take a small sip. But as soon as the water touched her lips, the temptation was too great and she drained her waterskin. The euphoria that followed lasted seconds, before she realized the gravity of her actions. The self-hate twisted inside her like a snake. The lack of water had messed with her mind and she wished she had brought another waterskin of water instead of the books.

Hermione tried to convince herself that it had been worth it. Her thoughts were clearer and the water had cooled her. There was nothing more she could do, the water was gone. She forced herself onwards. For half a second, she considered turning around and returning home. Her parents would be overjoyed at her return and there would be food, water, and a bed to sleep in. She imagined having a bath drawn and the ecstasy of warm water.

Even if she did decide to turn around, she would not come across a water source for days. Hermione would have refilled her flask otherwise. If she continued forward, there was a town on the edge of Elran's kingdom. There was certain to be water there and she had enough silver to stay at the inn. Huffing, she started walking towards the town.

Her stubbornness would be the end of her.

A new determination pushed her on. Each time her resolve weakened, she pictured the warmth of the inn and the comfort of a bed. The smell of a freshly cooked meal and a jug of water crept into her dreams and her stomach roared with hunger upon waking.

At the end of the second day without water, she did not think she could endure. The dry mouth returned with a vengeance, her blisters bled, but then the smell of moist earth hit her. It did not take her long to find the stream, all other plans were abandoned. Fingers trembling as she searched her pack for her flask, she grabbed it and started filling it. The waterskin was an inch away from her mouth when a voice startled her.

"I hope you are not planning on drinking that."


	3. Chapter 3

The voice startled her and she dropped her waterskin. Fearing the worst, Hermione slowly turned around. It was a well-known fact that mercenaries hid in these woods and preyed on travelers. A man with the whitest-blond hair she had ever seen entered the clearing. Hermione doubted he was a mercenary. He was too well-dressed – a merchant's son by the looks of it – and appeared to be alone. He wore a bow and quiver, with a pack slung across his shoulders.

He did not look like a threat.

"What is wrong with the water?"

His grey eyes regarded her coolly. "Nothing, if you enjoy shitting all day."

"This stream comes from the mountains," Hermione explained, picking up her waterskin.

"I am familiar with these lands and I guarantee that you are wrong."

She bristled at his words. The one thing she hated was not only being wrong, but being called out on it. The man looked bored with the conversation and started walking away. The last thing she wanted to do was ask for help, but she knew that her water reserve was gone. Swallowing her pride, Hermione ran up to the stranger.

"Wait! Sir, I do not mean to trouble you, but could you tell me where I could find water?"

The blond stopped, before turning around. He looked her up and down. "Where are you from?"

"From Almara. My aunt has fallen ill, so I am travelling to Elran to take care of her," she lied.

"You are a considerate niece. The water in these parts is not drinkable, but you can have some of mine," he said, handing her the flask.

Hermione took a sip of it and immediately burst into a coughing fit. He looked like he was on the verge of a smile, but restrained himself. "Do not tell me that the Princess of Almara is unfamiliar with ale."

"I am not royalty," she said, her brown eyes wide.

"You do look the part of a peasant, but your speech and mannerism give you away."

She did not answer, but tilted her chin up at the criticism. "And who are you to know what a princess acts like?"

He was about to answer, but pushed her under beneath a collapsed tree trunk instead. He glared at her when she was about to speak. "This forest is not safe for women."

The sounds of hooves grew louder and her eyes widened. She crawled so that she was hidden, but could still see the blonde. He pulled out his bow and knocked an arrow. He looked calm. Hermione's mind jumped to conclusions. Maybe it was a mercenary scheme. The group would send a single member out to gauge the situation. If he did not return, then the mercenaries were free to attack. It was not natural for someone to look so calm wielding a weapon. She closed her eyes and prayed that she was wrong.

"Halt! Who goes there?"

"The Knights of Almara."

A new fear took hold of her. The blond looked at Hermione and she shook her head violently. He frowned, but looked at the newcomers. Her father's best knight Ronald Weasley rode into the clearing, followed by four other men. They were not supposed to search this far. Maybe they were tracking her?

"What is your business?"

"The Princess of Almara is missing. Have you seen any girls on your travels?"

Her companion's face was neutral. "No. If I do find her, where can I find you?"

"We'll be returning East. You can send news to one of the villages. Thanks for your time."

The Knights of Almara rode off without another word. Hermione stayed in her hiding spot, scared that they would return. She did not want to go back, but she was also nervous to face the strange blond man. It was clear that he knew who she was and that he was at an advantage because of it. He could easily capture her and sell her for a handsome ransom.

"You can come out, your Highness."

Taking a deep breath, she entered the clearing. "Thank you for not giving me up."

"Care to explain to me why I just committed treason?"

"We should start moving in case they return. Where are you headed?"

"I am also going to Elran. It is best we stay together," he said, slinging his bow over his over his shoulder.

Hermione started following him. He knew the forest better than she did and the difference between their stations was never clearer. His feet fell softly on the ground, while hers stomped loudly over every tree branch she could find no matter how quiet she tried to be. He was a fast walker and her short legs struggled to catch up to him. They walked until the sun set and began to set up camp.

"I am going to see if I can catch anything," he said, dropping his pack on the ground. "You probably scared the animals off hours ago."

She rolled her eyes as he disappeared into the woods. Hermione gathered firewood and lit it within minutes. She was grateful that she had been on her own for a week already, otherwise she would have been more of a burden to her companion. She bustled around the fire, unpacking her belongings. Night had fallen and she started to worry that he had left her alone or had been attacked by an animal. Grabbing his flask, she took a seat by the fire. Hermione took a sip of ale while she tried to figure out what to do next.

Her worries ended when he came back a short time later with two rabbits slung over his shoulder. He did not say a word and began to prepare the rabbits to be roasted over the fire. She stood awkwardly before deciding to gather more firewood. Hermione was used to others taking care of her, but a small part of her wanted to impress this man. He took no notice of her efforts.

"What is your name? It does not feel fair that you know mine and I do not know yours."

He had finished with the rabbits and had begun assembling something she had never seen before. Part of her wanted him to answer her question, but another part of her wanted to learn what he was doing. He slung the rabbits on the contraption and then waited until they were finished cooking. She added the firewood to the fire and sat across from him. The silence dragged on.

"How do you know how to do all of this?"

"Do you always ask so many questions?" He grabbed the flask from her and took a sip. "My father drilled into me the importance of survival. He used to take me hunting when I was younger and taught me all that I needed to know. I have also picked things up from other travellers along the way."

The rabbits were done before she could answer him. After letting them cool, he handed her one. She carefully picked it up and then realized she was not sure how she was supposed to eat it. Glancing at the blond, she saw that he just started biting into it. Taking a deep breath, she copied him. The taste of fresh meat after days of consuming only dry meat made her mouth water and she quickly finished it. He stared at her amused.

"I will take first watch. Get some sleep. You look like you need it," he said, grabbing a piece of wood and pulling out a knife. She grabbed her bag and rested her head on it. His skill with a blade should have worried her as she watched him carve the wood, but her fatigue had softened her paranoia. The heat from the fire warmed her and her eyes became heavy. It was not until she was minutes away from sleep that he answered her earlier question.

"Draco. My name is Draco."


	4. Chapter 4

Due to her episode of dehydration, her journey was delayed. Draco made sure that she was adequately hydrated before resuming their travels. Hermione found that she did not mind, because for the first time in a long time, she was happy. Draco proved to be a wealth of knowledge and she regretted not meeting him earlier in her adventure. He began teaching her about the plants found in this area of the woods, which ones could be used for healing or poison. She was able to put this knowledge to use and applied a salve on her blisters. The skin was still raw, but the wounds no longer bled. It was a welcome relief.

"How did you come to be such an experienced traveller?"

He held back branches and she passed without a single scratch. "My father's work involves a lot of traveling. Much of what I know was learned by others I encountered."

"It sounds like you had a very good childhood."

"Better than others, but it still presented its own challenges. What was yours like?"

Hermione struggled to catch up to his long limbs. "It was lonely. My father was away a lot. My mother tried to fill the void as best as she could. I played with other children, but I was always treated differently. Did you have a lot of friends?"

"I was a bit of a selfish child. I only had two close friends. Theo and Blaise, but I do not see them as often now," he said before laughing. "And Pansy would kill me if she found out she was an afterthought."

The conversation died after that. Hermione was not sure if it was the thought of having close friends that bothered her or the way he mentioned Pansy. She had assumed he was unmarried. She had reached a marriageable age herself - was considered to be a older, as the ladies at court loved to remind her - and it was clear that Draco was a good catch, his wife was lucky. Since Hermione had met him, he had been nothing short of chivalrous. The more she thought about it, the more convinced she was that it was the fact that he grew up with close friends that bothered her. She barely knew Draco, therefore, it was impossible to have feelings for him.

The rest of the day passed with little conversation, but it was a relatively comfortable silence. It was not until they started their journey the next morning, that he initiated a conversation for the first time.

"What possessed a princess to run away from home?"

The question froze her and she almost tripped on a root, but managed to recover. She did not answer immediately. Despite her growing trust, she was not ready to share such a personal revelation. Her heart pounded in her chest and she wondered what he would think of her, if he discovered the true reason of her escape. But thankfully, Draco did not force her answer and they walked for another hour in silence before she decided to give him a partial answer. "I was never permitted to travel with my father and I wanted that experience."

"You do not seem the type to leave on a whim."

"That is a bold statement to make when you do not know me," Hermione snapped, feeling on edge.

"It is surprising, the amount that you can learn about someone when you spend entire days with them."

He walked with an air of cockiness and she had to resist the urge to shove him. There was some truth to his words and it alarmed her that she was so easily read. But she knew that was not the root of her frustration. Ever since she discovered that there was a woman waiting at home for him, Draco was all that she could think about. Hermione was becoming accustomed to his presence and found that she did have feelings for the occasional snarky blond. This had not been part of the plan and she had not planned for this possibility. How was she to know that she would run into someone in the middle of the woods? This little escape of hers was not permanent. She knew what was waiting for her at home and she could not avoid it forever.

Nothing could come of this.

The rest of the day was spent sniping at each other and she was relieved when he slowed. The sooner they slept, the sooner they would wake up and reach town.

"Let's stop here. We can clean ourselves up and set up camp for the night," Draco said as they came upon a river.

Hermione nodded, still irritated with the blonde, and began to unpack their stuff. After spending several nights together, they quickly developed a system. She would get the fire started and Draco would see if he could catch any game. She was just reaching for Draco's flask when she heard a rustle behind her and Draco yelled.

"Get up! There's a bear!"

She turned around just in time to see a bear charging with two cubs in tow, when the female pounded into her. Hermione went flying into the river and smashed her head against a rock. Blinking black spots out of her vision, panic began to set in. Swimming to the top of the river was harder than she expected and she felt her lungs burn in protest as she kicked her legs as hard as she could. Hermione had to fight the current and prayed that Draco was not hurt. He had to be okay. When she broke the surface of the water, she gasped in a breath and ran towards shore.

Fear drove her forward. She had read all about the dangers of wildlife when she was a child, terrified when her father went hunting with the knights. The average bear was not dangerous, but a mother would kill to protect her cubs. The river had dragged her away from their camp and she followed Draco's muffled cries, pushing her legs forward.

She had to save him.

She started to yell when she was steps away from the bear and began to charge at it. It stopped its huffing and rose up, before darting away, its cubs following. Hermione waited until the rustling became faint before turning to Draco. He was face down on the ground, groaning, and there was so much blood that she almost threw up. The only thing that prevented it was that he was losing blood fast and there could be no delay. His shirt was in tatters and she pulled it off him to get a better look at his injuries.

He had large gashes and puncture wounds all across his back and she suspected one of his arms was broken by the way it hung at an awkward angle. Faster than she thought possible, she began tearing his tunic into strips and wrapped it around the gashes. The puncture marks were barely bleeding, but she knew the possibility of infection was high. It was the gashes that concerned her the most. Turning him over with his assistance, she tended to the slashes on his front before returning to the ones on his back. She applied pressure to the wounds, her arms exhausted with the effort. Stopping the bleeding would not be enough. His eyes fluttered closed and she could not keep him awake. Hermione had never felt this powerless and tears streamed down her face as she tried to figure out what to do.

No. She would not let the man she had just begun to care about die and Draco needed her to be strong. She would not be a damsel in distress.

Grabbing wooden branches, she made a litter using the only supplies they had left. It was ungraceful and took way longer than it should have, but she finally got Draco on the litter. He was barely clinging on to consciousness and his lack of moans worried her. Grabbing their packs and putting it on Draco, she hoisted the litter up with a strength she did not realize she possessed. The closest town would be too far. Her head throbbed and she was not sure how far she could pull him, but she set out in the only direction there would be help.

Her father would kill her if he found out where she was going, but she no longer cared.

She had to save him.


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione made it ten steps before almost dropping Draco. Carrying him to safety had been a fool's dream, but she had to try something. At least, they were no longer in the clearing. She set the makeshift litter down and rubbed the sweat out of her eyes. Glancing back at him, she noticed that Draco was in and out of sleep. He would not be able to walk and she was not able to drag him; there was no guarantee that help would come.

She knelt down, pushing blond hair out of his face. "I need to find help. I will be back soon."

"Do not leave me," he said, opening his eyes. "I will feel better after a good night's rest." He went into a coughing fit, his back hunched over, and face contorted in pain as the position pulled at his wounds. Hermione rubbed the area on his back that was unaffected. The spray of blood from his cough strengthened her resolve.

Once he was settled, Hermione dragged the litter into a clump of elder trees. She hoped it would provide enough cover. His grey eyes watched her as she grabbed her pack and the guilt of leaving him was a weight on her shoulders. Draco was about to say something before she left, but she interrupted him. "I will be back soon, I promise."

Hermione crawled out beneath the tree. It took a second to place herself, but once she found the North Star, she started walking. She wanted to jog but night had fallen, obscuring obstacles and making the journey twice as long. Hermione rolled her ankle once, made enough noise to wake up the entire forest, but she did not care. Hermione needed to get back to him quickly. She had tried to be strong in front of Draco, but she knew he was more injured than she initially though. He had internal bleeding and there was no way to know how severe it was. Hermione prayed that it was a slow bleed, that she had time to save him.

It felt like an eternity passed before she saw a light in the distance. Not sure what was up ahead, she used Draco's tricks for making as little noise as possible. This slowed her considerably, but she was only helpful to Draco alive. It was difficult at night, but Hermione thought he would have been proud. The light shone from inside a cave. She was certain she was in the right place and this put her on edge. She crept up to the entrance and almost drew back. The very air itself felt unnatural, like a cool liquid was being poured down her back. But Draco was the reason she was here, so she took a deep breath and stepped forward -

"Can I help you?" The voice startled her and she almost screamed in terror. The young man standing behind her smiled, amused with her reaction.

Hermione clenched her fists to stifle her fear. "Are you the wídefeorlic?"

"I am. Come warm yourself by the fire, child, and tell me what grieves you."

The wídefeorlic was rumoured to be the greatest healer in the world. He had powers that went beyond reason and logic, and was dangerous. He had been around for centuries, poisoning kings, kidnapping children, and drinking the blood of virgins. Hermione knew that most of it was fabricated, but he was the only healer that she knew that could help her.

"I do not have the time. My friend is injured and I need your help," she said, but her heart dropped when the wídefeorlic started walking into the cave.

She was not one to be shy nor give up, so Hermione followed him. He pulled a pot off the fire and poured the stew into two wooden bowls. The wídefeorlic offered her one, but she politely shook her head. She had grown up hearing stories about how he would bewitch stragglers with food and drink. Hermione also knew his appearance was an illusion, he was far older than six and ten. The wídefeorlic shrugged at her rejection. "It is not every day that a royal seeks my help. Does your father know you are here?"

Hermione shook her head. "I need your help. My friend is bleeding to death." And then she proceeded to tell him how Draco got injured and what she had done. The wídefeorlic nodded along, but seemed to be in no great hurry.

"Your friend has time. I was aware of your presence the moment you stepped foot into my domain," he said before slurping back the stew.

She could not stand still, not when she knew that Draco was out there suffering. Hermione walked around the cave, her hands restless as she waited. There was a rug on the ground that would have once been beautiful, but the colours had faded and holes had worn through different parts of it. Right next to it, there was a pile of straw stacked nicely with a blanket. Closer to the entrance, there were shelves bursting with jars. They were filled with various substances. Hermione almost gagged when she found one with eyes in it.

Finally, she could take no more. "What can I offer you to save my friend? I will do anything."

"You offer so much for someone you have just met," the wídefeorlic smiled. "Lead me to your friend and I will see what I can do."

Hermione immediately took off and guided him back to where she had left Draco. It seemed like the journey was faster now that she had someone who could help. She was surprised at how well she remembered the path, like her feet had memorized every step and her eyes every tree. The fear of the unknown lurking in the shadows was forgotten, but the unease she felt towards the man was tempered by her need for his skill.

Draco was in the same position that she had left him. He had fallen asleep at some point, but the pain was still etched on his pale face. Bringing a hand to his brow, she bit her lip when she realized he felt clammy.

"So this is the man you are willing to do anything for. Interesting." The wídefeorlic waved his hand and Hermione could scarcely believe her eyes when the litter hovered in the air. "Well what are you waiting for, child? Let us return."

She walked next to the wídefeorlic, her back straight as she tried to ignore the fact that Draco was floating behind them. The man was nonchalant, leaping over rocks without a glance back at the blond. Hermione was not sure how they made it back to the cave without her having a heart attack. He set the litter down and levitated Draco to the pile of straw. It frightened her that he had not woken up once since she had returned to him and her anger at the wídefeorlic grew.

The man did some peculiar tests - including pulling on Draco's earlobes, lifting his arms, smelling his hair - and Hermione wondered what she had hoped to achieve by bringing Draco here. But then he grabbed a bowl and his arms were moving so fast grabbing various ingredients that she calmed down. The air smelled of cloves, cider, and vomit. The wídefeorlic stirred and mottled and shook the mixture before kneeling beside Draco. He pinched Draco hard and her friend woke up startled and in a panic. "Where am I? What -"

"Draco, you are safe. I am here," Hermione said stepping forward.

He looked at the man next to him, then back towards her. "You brought me to the wídefeorlic? I was not so far gone that -"

"You are nearing Death's door and there is no time to argue. You have internal injuries and are bleeding out. Drink this before it is too late," the man said and poured the tincture down Draco's throat. Not even a minute later, Draco's eyes rolled back and he fell back onto the straw bed.

"And now we wait." When he saw that Hermione was hovering by Draco, the wídefeorlic gestured her to sit down by the fire. "There is nothing more that we can do for him. He has to fight this on his own. Now come and eat something. I promise the food is safe."

She reluctantly left Draco and listened to him. Taking the bowl of stew with shaking hands, she took a small sip. It was the best rabbit stew she had tasted, with a hint of garlic, parsley, and thyme. Her eyes kept flickering to Draco and she waited until her bowl was empty to ask the question that weighed on her mind. "Will he live?"

"That depends on a few things. But there is nothing more that I can do," the wídefeorlic said, taking the seat across the fire so that his face was half covered in shadows. "What brings you to this area of the forest?"

She fiddled with the bottom of her tunic and tried to decide how much to tell him. Hermione realized that she had never worn the same piece of clothing for longer than a day and she was certain she was beginning to smell. "I wanted to see the countryside and learn more about the people of Almara."

"This has nothing to do with the new tax that your father introduced?" His green eyes looked older, showing his true age and wisdom.

"How do you know about that?" Hermione said sitting up straighter. "Only my parents and their advisors were privy to that."

"I have my ways. Not all of the stories about me are true and not all of them are false," he said. "I know that you disagreed about the impending war, the tax, and marriage."

"Would you not object to a marriage that was agreed upon without your permission? Or the fact that this war is useless and will only serve to endanger our subjects? And to afford this war and my marriage, we must tax the subjects that are struggling to make ends meet?" Hermione exploded. She had kept her emotions bottled up and with her worry about Draco and she could not contain it any longer. "I would rather leave than support my father's decisions."

The wídefeorlic stared into the fire now and did not answer her outburst. Time slowed to a crawl and she wondered if her father even cared that she ran away from home. He had spent her entire childhood ignoring her because she had been a girl. Her mother would be beside herself, but she also was supporting the King's decisions. The impending war was over territory and resource like most wars. It was an unnecessary - stemming from greed and power - and her father had arranged her marriage to the Crown Prince to secure the King of Elran's alliance.

"You must return to Almara," the man said, jolting her from her thoughts.

"No, " Hermione answered. If the wídefeorlic knew why she left, he should be supporting her decision to leave. "I cannot in good conscience return."

He sighed. "I understand, but there is more at stake than you know. Have you heard of the prophecy?"

"Everyone has. It is every child's bedtime story. The kingdoms will be ushered into an age of darkness, but there one King and Queen will deliver the people from it. Why?"

"Because you are at Queen it speaks of," the wídefeorlic said and a small smile appeared when he saw her disbelief. "You are right to fear the path your father has chosen, but you will save your subjects from the terrible fate that awaits."

Hermione scoffed. "I appreciate that you believe in prophecies, but I do not. I believe in science and reason. The Crown Prince will become the King of Almara when my father passes. He will have the power to make these changes, not I."

"You have seen my magic. It goes against everything you believe, yet it still exists," he started, then sighed. "You know deep down that you need to return. What is stopping you?"

She looked at Draco before looking at the flames. "I want to choose my own path."

"He is promised."

Pansy. "I know, but the freedom to make my own decisions, to not have the responsibility of an entire kingdom..."

"Yet you would not let someone else suffer your burden," the man said with a knowing smile.

He was right. Her decision to runaway had been an act of rebellion, but she knew deep down that she would have returned to Almara. Hermione got up and walked to Draco's bedside. He looked peaceful for the first time since she had met him. Draco did not know the consequences of traveling with her. Her father would accuse him of kidnapping her; he had a life with another. Their companionship was only ever going to be temporary. Then why was it so hard to leave?

"Will he recover?"

The wídefeorlic put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He is getting stronger as the moon begins its descent. You saved his life."

Hermione did not want to leave Draco. They had been through a lot in their short time together and she had learned more about herself than she had known was possible. But, she had duties to attend to back home and if the man was to be believed, a great destiny. Those things alone did not make her move. She pictured Draco with a beautiful woman, imagined what his life was like in Elran, and knew that there was no place for her there.

"It is time," the wídefeorlic said, releasing her shoulder.

Nodding, she swallowed the lump in her throat and gathered her things. "Thank you for saving him. I will forever be in your debt."

"You will be happy," he said with a sad smile. "Have a safe journey home."

"Thank you." With a heavy heart, Hermione looked at Draco one last time - memorizing the contours of his face - before leaving the cave. As soon as she was out of hearing distance, she burst into tears.


	6. Chapter 6

Walking away from Draco had been the hardest thing Hermione had done. Countless times, she wished she was back in the forest. Despite the comfort life at court provided her, there was a satisfaction of taking control of one's life. Living moment-to-moment, surviving the hurdles one encountered. It was freedom, complete and utter freedom. The silence that hung over the forest, the only sounds made by birds, critters, or her noisy footsteps. Closing her eyes, she could almost hear the delicate whisper of the wind, the rustle of the leaves, feel the sunlight's kiss on her skin. It was paradise, one she had given up.

"Good mornin' your Highness," one of the farmers said, bowing as she walked past him.

"And good morning to you, Edward. I trust that the summer has been kind to you," Hermione said, slowing down. She could hear her servant bristle behind her. Her father was holding court and would begin at any moment. Her servant had been tasked with keeping an eye on her.

Edward smiled, his front teeth missing. "Yes ma'am. The harvest's good."

She returned his smile before continuing on. It was difficult talking to the people when she knew the hardships they would soon encounter. Hermione had made a stand on the impending taxes and war when she ran away and hoped that her father would listen. Instead, he used her disappearance to gain the nobles' support and blamed the King of Ardel for kidnapping her. When Hermione returned to court, the blacksmith's fire was roaring at all hours, foreign nobles visited to lend their support, and the harvest was being moved into the castle storage in case of a siege. Even when she swore that she had not been kidnapped, the King refused to listen to reason. The guards swung the wooden doors open at her arrival and granted her admittance into the throne room. The King and Queen were perched on their thrones overlooking the crowd that was trickling in. There was a seat for her, but she decided to stand at the back of the room close to the doors. Hermione wanted to observe without attention being drawn to her. The King frowned at her, but did not object.

"I am surprised to find you here," a voice to her left said.

Hermione turned and politely smiled. "Neville. I would hear the King's judgment on the affairs of the kingdom. Would you rather that I work on my embroidery?"

"I did not mean to imply -"

His words were cut off by the King calling up the first case. Neville Longbottom was the Crown Prince of Elran. He was taller than her with bright blue eyes and short brown hair. Hermione hated him on principle. If he had not been her intended, she was certain she would have enjoyed his company. Neville was kind, but shy in an endearing way. Maybe he would have had a chance before Hermione left, but blond hair and grey eyes filled her dreams. Neville seemed to believe that he was to be a part of this impending war, but Hermione knew that he was only a tool for her father to use as he pleased.

Thoughts of Draco consumed her mind since she had left him and she prayed every night that he was unharmed. The wídefeorlic promised that he would recover. There was an honesty in the healer's bright green eyes that made her trust him and she hoped she had not been wrong in doing so. Hermione pictured Draco with a beautiful woman, little children running around. Draco would have a son that he would teach to hunt, a little blond boy with grey eyes like his father. Her chest constricted at these thoughts, but it was better this way. Draco would have been in danger if anyone had caught him with her. Maybe in another life.

Her father waved the first case away and gestured for the next person to come forward. The hearings went on all day. Lords squabbling over lands and workers, farmers complaining of poached animals, familial disputes were the most common problems brought to the King. Hermione wanted to warn the people of the harsh changes coming - that these petty concerns would no longer matter and that they needed to rally together - but they would not believe her. The war would be on their doorstep before they realized the danger they were in. Hermione watched the King and wondered how he held such sway over his subjects. He had been a fair King, but time had made him bitter and paranoid.

The Queen caught her eye and smiled at her, softening Hermione's expression. Her mother had been quick to forgive her disappearance. Her father had simply warned her not to do it again, otherwise there would be dire consequences. He had been in the middle of a council meeting when she returned and he waved her away. Hermione had built up the extreme punishments she would be forced to endure on her way home from the cave and had coached herself on what she would say when asked about her journey. But, no one inquired to where she had run off to nor what made her return. Hermione felt changed by her adventure, but it went unnoticed. She felt like a ghost that had been cursed to roam the corridors of her father's castle. Silent, but not seen.

"You cannot go in there!"

The doors flew open and the guards leaped into action, quickly subduing the newcomer. The crowd went wild with fear and Hermione kept her back to the wall. Her mother gestured for her to come to the dais, but her newly developed instincts warned her to stay against the wall. She was close to the door and would be able to slip out if need be.

"Silence!" The King stood up and bellowed. The effect was immediate, the crowd calmed and the guards were able to pull the intruder closer to the King. "What is the meaning of this?"

"I am the Crown Prince of Ardel and I am here to petition for peace between our two kingdoms," the newcomer said, his voice ringing with authority. A shiver ran down Hermione's spine. "The guards would not let me pass and I had strict instructions to speak with you."

Her heart pounded in her chest, but she did not move. It was impossible. Hermione would have known, noticed that there was something not right. But the more she thought about it, the more it began to make sense. He knew she was a princess, he felt a duty to accompany her. He had asked her questions about her home, about her family. The betrayal tasted like ash in her mouth. The wídefeorlic's surprise that she would risk so much to save him made sense. Hermione prayed that she was wrong, but it was a fool's hope.

The King stepped off the dais and walked up to the intruder before laughing. "You look exactly like your father, boy. What is your name?"

"Draco Malfoy," he said. He was still surrounded by guards and she tried to inch forward to see him. "If you release me, we could discuss the conditions my father has enclosed with me. Our kingdoms would greatly benefit from this treaty."

The silence that followed was filled with possibilities. Hermione was torn. Part of her was loathe to believe him after his deception, but another part of her was desperate for peace between the two kingdoms. Her father appeared to be in deep thought, but the way the right corner of his mouth twitched, she knew it was for show.

"Thank you for your offer, but I will decline. Guards, bring him to the dungeons!" He announced before resuming his seat on the throne.

Hermione had slowly moved over; she was right beside the doors. Draco caught sight of her and the feeling of betrayal was harsher while near him. His grey eyes reminded her of an angry sea in the midst of a storm. This look frightened her, but she did not give him the satisfaction of showing it. Instead she stood proud and tall, channeling the strength of her father. Draco looked like he wanted to say something to her, but kept his silence as the knights took him to the dungeons.

"Next!" Her father said and the hearings proceeded as if Draco had never appeared at all.

Neville had returned to her side and she feigned illness to escape the constricting confines of the throne room. She could not get away fast enough. Since her return, the surrounding forest had been her haven but Draco's appearance had ruined it. It would only remind her of his deceit. Instead she hid in the library, among the stacks of books and cried. Hermione could not believe she had been so blind. Now that she knew Draco's identity, she wondered why she had not questioned him on his occupation. He had let her believe he was the son of a wealthy merchant. The more she thought back to her time in the woods, her sadness turned into anger. Draco had betrayed her trust, had used her innocence as a way of gathering information. His father's armies could be marching towards them at this moment. Hermione needed to tell her father so he could prepare for the attack. The fear of disappointing the King yet again made her hesitate. Perhaps she should find out more information before bringing this to her father's attention.

Hermione felt better now that she had a plan. She would need to sneak into the dungeons - a place forbidden to everyone except the King and his guards - and question Draco. She retired to her bedchambers to resume the guise of feeling ill. Hermione would need to wait until the feast this evening before implementing her plan. The day passed by slower than she would have liked. Her mother had been too busy entertaining the ladies of the court to check on her, a servant was sent in her stead. Hermione reassured the servant that she simply needed rest and would feel better in the morning. The Court Physician came as was customary and gave her a tonic that would induce a deep sleep. He was a strong believer that sleep cured most ails. Plan in mind, Hermione waited until the feast was well underway before leaving. Candles lit the corridor making it easier to find her way.

"Hermione? What are you doing out of bed?"

She stopped and turned around. "Neville, I thought you would have been at the feast. My servant is assisting with the meal. I finished my book, so I am fetching another one."

"I will accompany you," he said offering his arm. "Are you still feeling ill?"

Hermione wanted to groan. Of course she would run into Neville out of everyone in this castle. He would feel honour bound to stay by her side. Hermione tried to think of a way to escape him, but none came to mind. Nothing she could do without severe repercussions. She followed him to the library and picked the first book that she saw.

"Thank you for your company. I think I can manage on my own now," Hermione said from the doorway. "I would hate for you to be late to the feast."

Neville smiled and she was surprised that it was genuine. How had he managed to hold onto his innocence? "I prefer your company. It has been difficult to spend time with you since your return to court. How long were you gone?"

"I am not sure. It was difficult to mark the passing of the days," she said. Hermione wanted to go down to the dungeons now, but guilt filled her at her obvious avoidance of her betrothed. He was kind and unlike any of the nobles or princes she had met. He did not deserve her mistreatment. When Neville offered his arm, Hermione took it and allowed him to escort her back to her chambers.

"I realize that you do not want this marriage. I have to admit that I was angry when I first found out, but I made myself promise to give you a chance," Neville said once they reached her door. "All I am asking for is a chance, Hermione. I think that we could find happiness together. Good evening."

Hermione watched Neville disappear down the corridor stunned. But, she could not give his words proper consideration until she dealt with Draco. Hermione grabbed a cloak from her room and pulled the hood up. Fully on her guard, she began her journey again. Hermione made it to the dungeons without incident. She knew that the dungeons was large, shaped like a square. Hermione had researched the castle floor plans when she first planned her escape. She crouched behind a crate and assessed the situation. The two guards on duty were on alert, but not paranoid. She knew them fairly well. They had a jug of ale and were playing cards. When Hermione was certain that no one else was on guard, she grabbed a rock and threw it down the corridor. The guards immediately rose at the noise and they split up to do a parameter check. She was quite pleased with her diversion. Hermione grabbed the tonic from her pocket and dumped it in the men's mugs before returning to her hiding space.

"Find anything?" John asked when they returned to their table.

Charlie shrugged. "Nothing. Must've been a rat."

It was entertaining watching the tonic take effect. Their movements became lazy, they began to squint until they finally fell asleep. Hermione grabbed the keys from John, a torch, and began her search. Her hood obscured her face and hid her horror. She never expected there to be so many prisoners. They were all dirty, shielding their eyes from the light. She looked in each cell until she found him.

He was sitting in the corner, head in his hands. Hermione did not trust her voice. She stood there, the torch burning as she cursed herself for being weak. Hermione had envisioned that she would storm into the dungeons, demand answers, and leave without looking back. But now that she was faced with him, her anger had simmered. Maybe she was not equipped to deal with this and should have let her father deal with this. Hermione was about to leave when he noticed her.

"Hermione -"

"No. It was a mistake coming down here," she said, taking a step back.

Draco jumped up and walked towards the iron bars. "Wait, I can explain -"

"What? That you conveniently decided to withhold the fact that you are the Prince of Ardel? I was a stupid girl to travel with a complete stranger," Hermione said. "When will your armies arrive?"

His eyes widened in surprise. "Is that what you - There are no armies. Only me. I have messed this whole thing up," Draco said, exasperated. "Our meeting in the woods was an accident. There was an increase in crimes in the area you were in and I felt honour bound to accompany you to safety."

"And you did not think to share who you were?" she asked.

"For the first time in my life, I was treated like an ordinary man. You out of everyone must understand how nice that was," he explained. "I was going to tell you after the attack, but then you left."

There was something in his tone that nagged at her. "Are you angry with me for leaving?"

"Yes! I still cannot understand why you would up and leave without a goodbye. I thought - well, never mind," Draco said, walking further into his cell. "Our experiences must have been vastly different if you thought my father's armies were coming."

The torch was heavy in her hand and the conversation had sapped the anger out of her. Hermione no longer knew what to believe. It had seemed simple when Draco had burst into the throne room, but now she felt doubt and a sliver of hope. She wanted to believe him, trust that he was telling her the truth. "I left because I have a duty to my people. I left because I thought you were an ordinary man and that I would put you in danger. I left because you are promised to someone and I had no right to interfere with your life."

"I am not promised. What gave you that impression?" Draco asked.

Hermione felt like she had been punched in the stomach. This entire time she believed that he either had an intended or a wife at home. The HEALER had told her that he was promised. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she continued her interrogation knowing that time was running out. "What are you doing here, Draco?"

"Your dear father arrested me and now I am here," he said with a grin, before his tone became serious. "Our kingdoms are on the verge of war. It took some time, but I convinced my father that our kingdoms would benefit from becoming allies. My father did not agree, but he told me that if I could convince your father to sign a treaty, then we could have peace."

"You should never have come. You do not know the kind of man my father has become," Hermione said. Her mind was made up and she was pulling out the keys and unlocking the cell. "We need to get you out of here now."

Draco followed her. "I appreciate your help, but I do not understand the urgency."

"There is a reason that I ran away from home, Draco. Look around you, no one other than my father and the guards know that these people are imprisoned here," Hermione said. The guards were still asleep, but they would wake up at any moment. Handing the torch to Draco, Hermione carefully removed the cloak from John and gave it to Draco, taking back the torch. "Put that on. Security has tightened since my disappearance, but no one knows how I did it. The feast will be over soon."

Leaving the torch behind, Hermione led him through the side corridors. She could scarcely believe that she was breaking him out. But Hermione believed Draco and she knew what her father would do to him. There was bad blood between their fathers - a history she had never been privy to - and the King would take it out on Draco. The courtyard was in sight.

"We need to move quickly. There are guards that will pass in exactly three minutes. If they catch us, we are doomed," Hermione said. When Draco nodded, they ran to the servant's gate without incident. If he left now, there was a chance that he could make it out without recapture. She was not ready to say goodbye and there was a question that had been nagging at her. "Why did you try for peace?"

"Because I could not stop thinking about you. The woods were too silent without your stomping around," he said, reaching out to take her hand. "There is something between us. With the war coming, we will be on opposite sides."

Hermione bit her lip in an effort not to tear up. She had missed him more than words could express and now she was losing him all over again. "I do not want you to leave. It was hard enough the first time, but now -"

Draco kissed her, but by the time this had registered, he was already pulling away. "I know. This war complicates things, but we will figure it out."

"Please be safe," she said, reaching up to touch his face. She tried to memorize every inch of it, but knew that time would make the memory fade. Hermione wanted to say more, but there was too much to say and too little time. Would she ever see him again?

"One day, I will be King and I promise I will be by your side," Draco said. They heard the guards make their pass and knew that he had to go. "I will see you soon."

Hermione watched him leave and stayed rooted in place until he disappeared into the thick of trees. She wanted him to come back to her, but knew that was impossible. Picking up her skirt, Hermione carefully returned to her bedchambers in a daze. She was surprised she made it back without discovery. As soon as she closed the door to her room, the bells had been sounded. The hunt was on. She walked to her window and prayed that Draco would be safe.

The war had begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is the end of the first part of this story. I also posted this story on FF.net. I wasn't sure how interested people would be in a sequel, but the readers over there are quite interested in one, so I'll be posting one soon! Thank you for the kudos and for reading the start of Draco/Hermione's adventure :).


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